Ever Green
by Windblown.child
Summary: After the events of the Lord of the Rings, the ring-bearers travel to the Undying Lands.


Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.

* * *

Ever Green

Sunlight faded as the shore receded and the stars began to multiply in the boundless sky. No breeze stirred the sails or tugged playfully at locks of hair, but whispers drifted through the air on their own. Gandalf the White, clad still in his familiar gray, cast his eyes slowly among his companions. Frodo spoke with the eldest elves, listening with rapt attention to their histories and lore while the younger immortals grouped together at the stern. Only Bilbo sat alone at the bow, staring fixedly to the west.

"I never did have the chance to ask, Bilbo, my old friend, but why when you were so widely accepted by all of the free races, you chose to go west with the last of the elves?"

Already the lines of age were lifting from the hobbit's brow but he sighed with the weight of all the ages. "I was too peculiar and adventuresome for the Shire and men are too fleeting with their short lives."

The wizard settled himself more comfortably beside the halfling to hear his soft voice as he continued. "The dwarves love only gold and jewels, not living folk. But the elves, in their enduring, understand pain and sorrow."

"So you would make your home among them?"

"Home is where your heart is."

Gandalf was disturbed by the unvoiced snort of derisive laughter he heard in the Shireling's words. "And where is your heart, truly?"

"Buried deep under stone, surrounded by dark and silence where no man or dwarf will ever venture."

"My dear Bilbo, you sound bitter and weary but I cannot think of why." The hobbit continued to stare into the open waters. "Now see here, you have been afforded a great honor in going west. Evil is defeated once again, Frodo is whole, the Shire is saved, and all is right in the world."

The diminutive man sighed again. "All has not been right with the world in over 70 years."

"70 years? But that was your adventure to the Lonely Mountain. It was a success, if I recall."

"One failing I have found of the very old and extremely wise, is the small things often pass by their notice."

It was Gandalf's turn to snort derisively. "Small things, bah. Small wounds heal, small mistakes are forgiven, and small losses are forgotten. Now what is all this talk of oversight and misery?"

"You've never lost a love, have you?"

The wizard's head jerked around to look at the elves still conversing with Frodo. "I know my fair share of lost loves."

"But she still lives, even if just out of reach."

Gandalf looked again at the elven lords and lady and sighed. The halfling spoke the truth. As ageless as he was, only one ever brought him to his knees with a smile and knew how to speak to his heart with silence. He did not wish to revisit old memories better left to the past and spoke harshly to the halfling.

"And just what have you lost? Your favorite pipe? Or perhaps some old slippers? You know nothing of love."

"Don't I? I recall you being the one to lay him to his final rest with the Arkenstone upon his breast."

Gandalf blinked. And then blinked again. "Thorin?" Realization slowly dawned on the wizard. "He asked for you, in the end, and to be taken home. I thought he had meant the mountain."

Bilbo snorted. "I'm sure the love of ones so small as Thorin and I were of little importance to you."

Gandalf heard the hurt in the halfling's voice and left him alone at the bow. It was true, he had not seen the connection between the burglar and the dwarven king, but he had quite a lot on his mind at the time. The wizard sighed quietly, Bilbo was right, he often overlooked the little things he did not consider important. Galadriel let out a ringing laugh, delighted by something Frodo had said to the elves.

He didn't often dwell on the past, but any love, no matter how small should be celebrated and cherished. Perhaps the halfling was more wise than the wizard had thought. The elves did understand the pinning of the heart, and perhaps the best balm for the souls of the weary.

Conversation gradually died off and everyone watched the gray rain slowly pull away to reveal white shores. Bilbo stood alone at the bow, illuminated by a swift sunrise, all of his cares lifted away with the years from his body.


End file.
